


Beyond Description

by vampgirl999



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Body Worship, Eating Disorders, F/F, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 03:08:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5481041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vampgirl999/pseuds/vampgirl999
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Nightingale is hiding a grave secret from her beloved, and Katalia isn't about to let it stand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beyond Description

     Everyone knew what she was doing. That much had become obvious in the recent weeks which passed. It had begun with Cassandra, and the warrior’s passing comment about how she seemed pale during a meeting. She brushed it off as fatigue, and they continued, though she swore she could feel the burning stares of everyone around her. Then came Josephine, who would sneak little treats and snacks up to her rookery, only for them to remain untouched. She said she worried for her. The Inquisitor – Talia, as she insisted on being called – stopped by more than once to see if she wished to talk. She merely smiled, and declined. Varric invited her to join him for drinks and a hot meal one night.

     “Nightingale, even you can’t work forever.” He had gently teased, though his eyes reflected his concern. She made up an excuse about expecting a report from her agents that evening. He suggested another night, she said she’d let him know when she was available. Which was never.

     Cole’s words constantly reflected in her ears, now: “Sharp pain lacing throughout the torso. The urge to cry almost as strong as the hunger. Why does she torture herself so?”. Her agents wouldn’t stop staring after that, despite her snapping at them to mind their own business.

     Katalia was seated at her desk not a week later. Her emerald green eyes, always shadowed, made Leliana burn with shame. Her voice was light, as false as the bard’s excuses.

     “If your schedule deigns it, I thought we might share a meal together.” Her gaze leaves no room for argument. Still, Leliana tries.

     “Actually, I have some reports to tend to.”

     “I’m sure they can wait.” Any thread of patience snapped, if it was ever connected at all. The Dalish Warden stands, her long silver hair adding to the intimidating aggression of the movement. The hand which grasps Leliana’s, however, is gentle. “Come. I’ve missed you.”

     “I’ve missed you too.” For once, not a lie.

     It would seem that stopping the Calling had done nothing to diminish the infamous Grey Wardens’ appetite, as proven while the two sit across from each other, alone in the dining hall. The poor chefs must have fainted dead away when they heard another Grey Warden was to be staying at Skyhold, Leliana mused, taking in her lover’s enthusiastic dining. She used to laugh at how Katalia acted, and how embarrassed the young elf would get once she realized just how animalistic she appeared, during the first few weeks of adjusting to her new found appetite. But now, as she nibbled on a piece of fruit and took in her beloved’s lithe form, she merely felt nauseous.

 

\--------

  
       Walking back to Katalia’s quarters together, the sick, knotted feeling in her gut wouldn’t go away. Katalia hadn’t commented on her lack of appetite following their meal, merely asked how things had been at Skyhold whilst she was away. That’s right, she was supposed to have been tracking down rogue groups of Grey Wardens, ones who had possibly avoided Corypheus’s tainted grasp. The knot tightened. She reported on what she could, and had abruptly stopped when she realized Katalia was staring at her, cheek rested against one closed fist.

     “What?” The word came out more sharply than intended. Defensive. Katalia briefly raised a brow, her signature look of questioning, then relaxed again, forming an unnerving – and infuriating – facade of nonchalance.

     “Just admiring you in this light, _ma vhenan_.” The precious nickname, spoken in her lilting tongue, makes her flush. She doesn’t deserve such words.

     Leliana had accepted a kiss, and didn’t argue when Katalia had wordlessly motioned for her to follow her upstairs. But as they crossed the threshold, door locked and Katalia busying herself with adjusting the blankets on her bed – and she **still** hadn’t said anything – Leliana couldn’t take it anymore.

     “What’s wrong with you?” She asked, internally wincing at just how pathetically accusing that statement sounded. Katalia wasn’t the one at fault here, not truly.

     “Why did you come back early?”

     “Because I was needed here.” was her simple reply. She stopped fiddling, her back to the redhead.

     “Why haven’t you asked me about it?” Someone had told her, they both knew that. Likely Josephine, not that it mattered. She wouldn’t come back without reason.

     “Ask you about what, Leliana?” The name is spoken shortly, as if being spat. She hardly ever says her full name anymore, and certainly not like that. “About how you’ve hardly eaten anything in days – no, a week? How you’ve got everyone worried sick, myself included?” Her voice had risen to a near shout, and Leliana realized she had taken a step back. Katalia turned to face her, at last, and she was startled by how exhausted the woman suddenly looked. Like someone had taken all her energy and just sapped it out of her, bit by bit, until only a little remained now. The shorter girl sighed.

     “I know you, Leli. I’ve wanted to ask what in the Creators’ names you were thinking since I first received word you were starving yourself, but I know that if you don’t want to talk about it, you’ll create every reason and excuse to avoid it. I want to help you, but I can’t if you won’t let me.”

     Silence thickened the space between them.

     “…I’m sorry.” The tears fell before she even realized were there, and Leliana was immediately grateful for the familiar, strong arms which wrapped around her as she began to cry, openly sobbing into Katalia’s shoulder. The explanations spilled out between sniffles and gasps for air, along with the pain.

     Before Katalia had left to search out the other Grey Wardens, they had spent the evening together. Not an unusual event, but this time, Leliana had woken in the middle of the night without explanation. She’d turned onto her side, and found Katalia, draped in moonlight and only partially covered by one of the bed sheets. She looked so beautiful, even while deeply asleep, and Leliana couldn’t resist touching her, running her fingers along the firm ridges which made up her body. She looked so young, in that moment, and so vulnerable. It was then she realized that Katalia had always been smaller than her, being an elf, and likely always would be. Her mind had begun to wander to all the nights they spent together, wrapped in each other’s arms, her hands tracing Katalia’s body and marveling at all the boney areas. She’d seemed fragile to her, once. Then she wondered what Katalia felt when she touched her, and examined herself, frowning at what she saw. Leliana was certainly curvier than she had once been, and despite her keeping up with her bardic training, had some soft areas. She’d thought to lose a few pounds, and then couldn’t stop – it never seemed enough. She felt ugly.

     Katalia listened with intent patience, one of her hands running continuous, soothing circles against Leliana’s back. As the bard’s story dissolved into nothing more than watery eyes and the occasional hiccup, she suddenly spoke up, a repeat of hours before.

     “Come here.” Her hands firmly grasped, she allowed herself to be led to another side of the room. Leliana noticed the tall, full-length mirror before Katalia stopped in front of it.

     “Katalia-“ A single look, a wordless plead for trust, and Leliana fell silent once more. Long, nimble fingers tugged at the buttons and straps which held her clothes together. Heavy cloth and chainmail fell to the floor with a thud, ignored. The Warden dropped to her knees, and Leliana reflexively gasped, watching avidly as pale fingertips traced her legs, unlacing her boots and helping her ease out of them one at a time, setting them aside. Leggings are tugged down and tossed aside, along with underwear, until Leliana is left standing there: Naked, vulnerable, and slightly shivering. Katalia stands behind her and rests her hands on her hips, turning her to face the mirror.

     “Look.” Her accented voice tickles her ears.

     “I can’t.” She’s too afraid of what she’ll see, of Katalia’s expression.

     “Look.” She repeats, insisting. Her clothed body is warm against Leliana’s back. “Can you see what I see?”

     She looks, eyes drawn not to herself, but to Katalia’s eyes, peeking above her shoulder. The burning desire, reflected by the mirror, pulls a whimper from her throat. She can’t possibly be looking at her.

     “But I can.” Katalia whispers, startling her. She hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud. Her hands, rough and calloused from years of battle, spread against her stomach. One slides up, forcing the Warden to re-angle herself so she can reach up and lightly touch Leliana’s cheek.

     “I see the face which turned me from a proud Dalish scout, to a bumbling, thick-tongued fool, all those years ago.” Her fingers lightly tap next to her eye.

     “I see the eyes which command my very being, with a single glance, be it cold or hot.” A sighed breath against her neck makes her shiver again, this time with pleasure. The hand dips down, brushing her mouth.

     “I see the lips which I delightfully kiss, as many times as possible. Even now, I wish for nothing more than to cover them with my own.”

     “So why don’t you?” Leliana interrupts, her eyes locking pleadingly with Katalia’s. Too much, the words are too much, The laugh she receives is playful, though not unkind, and there is no hiding the gentle smolder which grows at her words.

     “Later, _ma vhenan’ara_. I am not finished.” Still, she kisses Leliana’s bare shoulder before continuing, pressing her lips for a bit longer than was necessary.

     “I see the firm pink nipples, which I’ve sucked, amongst other things…” Quick tweaks of the sensitive tips make Leliana gasp, and arch her back.

     “These hips, which seem to form perfectly to my hands,” An exaggeration, for with her small hands, Katalia couldn’t quite reach. Still, her words sounded sincere enough.

     “These strong legs, which I’ve held the honor of feeling wrapped about my body.” Her breath sounds ragged a moment, and Leliana’s knees feel weak as her fingers mercilessly slide against her, the simple touch sending tendrils of electric-like pleasure shooting through her body.

     Her hands slide up, bypassing the one area which Leliana wishes she would touch. She feels a sense of discomfort, not from the increasingly teasing touch – though that was frustrating enough – but at Katalia’s words, which seem too perfect to be true. The hands don’t stop, endlessly caressing and feeling, but Katalia leans forward regardless, her accent thickening as her voice dropped to a near-husky tone.

     “This skin, every inch of which I’ve kissed, nipped, or licked.” She kisses her pulse point, and Leliana nearly collapses. Her left hand drops down, finding Leliana’s own and lacing their fingers together, before bringing them back up again, resting on her chest. The voice rises again, firm and strong, and filled with love.

     “Your heart, which I stole, and which resides with mine at its side.” Katalia hugs Leliana, but doesn’t release her hand. Her tone is warm, and honest as she speaks to her again, resting her chin on her shoulder.

     “I could go on for days with what I see in you Leliana, and still not cover everything. You are beautiful beyond description, _emma lath_ , and always will be to me.”  
When the tears fall again, they are ones of joy, and are gently kissed away by her love.

  
\-----

  
      Waking up the next day with the rising sun greeting her, rather than paperwork or one of her agents, began what Leliana considered a good morning. It became even better when Katalia appeared, unfortunately clothed once more, bearing a tray of breakfast for them both. Although she playfully refused to do anything more than lay beside Leliana on the bed, arms crossed, while the bard ate her fill. A kiss was rewarded for both of their efforts.

     “You know, Sera’s right about the whole “elf sex” thing.” Katalia remarked later, as they walked down Skyhold hand in hand. When Leliana merely looked at her in confusion, she clarified.

     “About it being a whole “clackety-clack” of bones. It’s actually really frightening if you don’t know what’s going on.” Leliana starts laughing, and Katalia grins, adding

     “I’m really glad you’re not an elf. The sound of skeletons fucking is **not** sexy.” The expression of a passing noble is enough to set them both off in hysterics.

**Author's Note:**

> *ma vhenan = my heart  
> *ma vhenan’ara = my heart’s desire  
> *emma lath = my love


End file.
